


The Borderline

by shrikethrush



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25950097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrikethrush/pseuds/shrikethrush
Summary: There's something brewing at school.An anonymous set of diary entries brings together an unlikely rag-tag team that's dedicated to finding them - to convincing them that they may not be alone in the strangeness that they're convinced has left them isolated.Along the way they figure some things out about themselves and each other.  Oh!  And a little cryptology.  For flavor.
Relationships: Alana Beck & Connor Murphy, Alana Beck & Evan Hansen, Alana Beck & Jared Kleinman, Alana Beck & Zoe Murphy, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Jared Kleinman & Zoe Murphy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	1. signal

“Evan, holy shit? Did you see it?” Jared was buzzing. Evan was already tired, but he forced himself to seem interested. 

“Did I see what?” 

“There’s this – fuck, I don’t know what to call it. Journal entry? Someone posted it last night, someone from our school – and everyone is talking about it? Because while normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, Sabrina – you know, Sabrina? Current reigning queen of gossip? She shared it. And now everyone is talking about it. It’s  _ wild,  _ man.” 

“Why would anyone care about a diary entry?” Evan flopped back on his bed, feeling the pillow under his head compress as he exhaled, his mind running a million directions. “It’s probably nothing.” 

“That’s the  _ thing, _ it’s not.” Jared seemed to be vibrating at high speeds, his excitement manifesting. “It’s – the first in a series of entries, it sounds like? And it’s about someone who is – well, fuck if I know  _ what _ they are – but they’re  _ not  _ cishet, and that’s a big fuckin’ deal.” 

“What?” Evan found his attention piqued. “There’s –  _ what?”  _

“Some closeted queer kid goes to our school and is now writing an anonymous digital diary that is going to be picked apart for the next million years. And  _ we’re _ going to find them,” Jared’s smug grin could be heard through the phone. 

“I’m sorry, we’re going to  _ what?”  _ Evan spluttered, his heart hammering in his chest. “Jared, we can’t – we can’t  _ out  _ someone!” 

“We wouldn’t!” Jared was quick to defend. “I just...wanna find them. Someone who – I dunno. Knows what it’s like.” 

“Jare, you’re –?”

“I don’t know what I am,” Jared sighed. “I just know it’s not straight. And I  _ really _ don’t wanna dwell on it.” 

“...me too.” 

“Wait, seriously? Shit,” Jared let out a surprised laugh. “Anyway, I gotta go. I have to get my beauty rest before the first day of school tomorrow.” 

He sounded like a smug bastard and Evan would like nothing better than to wipe that smug grin right off his face. 

***

_ I know something you don’t. I know something nobody else knows.  _

_ And it’s going to shake this town to its core.  _

***

“Hey, Zo, you cool?” Connor stuck his head out the window, his voice rough and unbothered. Zoe, however, was snapped from her reverie. She almost slipped off the roof as she startled, her gaze breaking off the stars overhead. 

“Yeah. Did you see what people are saying about that new diary thing? Wild.” 

“Not really my problem,” Connor shrugged. “Why do you care?” 

“It’s just...weird. To see, to read, whatever. To know someone feels that alone.” 

“We should find ‘em.” Connor huffed. “Not like, in a creepy, ‘I’m outing you to the entire world’ kind of way. More in an ‘I see you, I understand you, I probably dislike you and I hate to be around you’ kind of way. Y’know?” 

“How can we find them?” 

“There will be clues as the entries drop, right?” Connor swung his legs over the side of the house, and as the warm summer wind blew it reminded Zoe that he smelled strongly of coffee, febreeze, and their mom’s favorite detergent. And  _ possibly  _ just a  _ teeny  _ bit of weed. But she elected to ignore that. “We can draw conclusions from that. Try to get a handle on who they are or whatever.” 

“Isn’t that stalkerish?” 

“They took that risk when uploading a digital diary anonymously,” Connor shrugged. “Could be something fun to do with our senior year. Ev would probably panic at the thought of trying to find a total stranger, though.” 

Zoe snorted. “Jesus, can you  _ imagine?  _ When he introduced himself at the jazz band concert – you didn’t see it, obviously – he was so  _ sweaty.  _ I love him to death but he’s gotta get that under control.” 

“At least he was able to talk to you,” Connor picked at a shingle. “He still can’t make coherent sentences around me most of the time – the only exception is when you two  _ nerds  _ do shit like go ghost hunting and wind up trespassing and I’ve gotta get you the hell out of dodge.” 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ insult the ZEvan Recreational Exorcism Initiative on my  _ rooftop,” _ Zoe huffed. “I won’t hesitate to push you off if I need to.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Connor bared his teeth in an almost-smile. “Coward.” 

“Kids, get some sleep!” Their mom yelled out the window. “First day of school tomorrow!” 

“Fuck off!” Connor yelled back, Zoe instead electing to duck through her window and flick off the lights. 

The stars twinkled out her window, and with a promise and a prayer Zoe made a wish. 

***

_ Maybe these words can change things. Make things better.  _

_ Even if the way forward is through hell, I’ll endure and come out the other side laughing.  _

_ Satan better square up.  _

_...My math teacher is a healthy alternative.  _

***

Alana was tired. She was on her seventh project of the summer for school, and between that, her grandmother’s...well,  _ that _ , and her obscene amount of service hours, she was stretched to her limit. 

She pushed forward. She poured another cup of tea – she cringed at the fact it was lukewarm, but microwaving tea was a sin punishable by death and making a fresh pot would take too much time. She needed caffeine, she didn’t need an optimal cup of tea. 

She would endure. She had to. 

***

_ My dearest diary,  _

_ It’s come to this. I’ve ripped off the bandaid and become the stereotype – I’m actually keeping one of these now. It’s probably the only thing that’ll keep me sane through all this.  _

_ I feel like a fraud. Like,  _ all _ the time. Probably because only  _ **_Sfidpizfh_ ** _ knows the truth and it feels like I’m constantly lying to everyone I know – no big deal.  _

_ Well, except it  _ totally  _ is and I’ve known for like a year now but didn’t tell anyone. Surprise! My sexuality isn’t what you expected! Also my anxiety is debilitating and I’m scared to talk to you about any of it for fear you’ll think I’m lying. Love you~!  _

_ It sucks. Because  _ **_Lcq_ ** _ wants me to have crushes and I don’t have the kind she wants and I feel like I gotta lie about it. And like,  _ half  _ the world revolves around finding ‘your other half’ who will just, like...magically fix your entire life. And I don’t get it. I don’t know if I want that, and I don’t know if I ever have. I can appreciate lots of it, I love the idea, but I don’t think it’s something I have ever experienced. At least not in the way that’s considered ‘normal’.  _

_ It doesn’t feel right. But I guess nothing has in a while.  _

_ I wanna tell them so badly. To have them know so I don’t have to lie anymore. But how can I?  _

_ I feel like if I tell them, I’ll be letting them down. Or they won’t get it and I’ll somehow manage to feel worse. Like so many expectations were on me growing up and falling into the perfect suburban image of a heterosexual couple with 2.5 kids and a perfect little house at the end of a culs-de-sac.  _

_ I’m not doing that. I don’t even know if I can, let alone if I want to.  _

_ I want someone who loves me the same way I love them, and a dog, and a thriving career. I don’t want a big family. That’s just...who I am. Who I’ve always been, I think. I didn’t really have the words for it before. I do now.  _

_ If I could choose, I’d pick anything but this. I could explain being anything or anyone but who I am. LGBTQUIA+ and pride and labels is just...too much for my friends and family. I’m scared they won’t believe me. I’m scared they will and they’ll think I’m broken for it.  _

_ I’m not broken. I’m whole, and loved, and one day I can talk to them without being scared. For now, I’ll have to settle for this.  _

_ Loving you forever and always – _

**_Zzvzym_ **


	2. escape

_ My dearest diary,  _

_ Here I am, and it’s the first day of school. I should be thrilled, shouldn’t I? I should be excited to see my friends again, to get back to extracurriculars or academics or whatever the hell else it is that’s supposed to be enjoyable for kids our age.  _

_ But the truth is I’m not. I hate school, even though I try really hard not to seem like it. Because I’m alone. And not in that sad, pathetic loser kind of way that  _ **_Gxqwhdf_ ** _ is. It’s more like… _

_...like I could yell, and nobody would hear, even if I’m in a room full of people. Because they aren’t looking at me. Nobody ever does. They see me, but it’s like their eyes pass right through, like I’m just part of the high school scenery.  _

_ I’ve got friends, sure. But like...like none of them see me. None of them know me. It’s like we’re always six feet apart – last night one of them reached out to me for the first time since summer started. It’s like – like they care because they know other people do, but that’s the secret about being popular that nobody tells you.  _

_ People act like they care because they think they’re supposed to, because they think other people care, so they’re supposed to care too. But nobody actually does. Even the other kids who are supposed to be popular are only your friends because they think they’re supposed to be – because you’re really good at this one very specific thing or you’re in the same social circles because of this, that, or the other – and they don’t actually like you or each other.  _

_ That’s the thing about us ‘popular kids’. The thing they don’t tell you on the tin where you see the big parties and the cute pictures and the football games.  _

_ We’re all cripplingly lonely, just like everyone else. We just don’t have an excuse.  _

_ At least now I’ve got  _ **_Sfidpizfh,_ ** _ who I know will be there no matter what. Even if we don’t talk during the day, or if we won’t sit together at lunch, or if nobody knows we’re friends because we’re not supposed to talk, not really.  _

_ Sometimes I wonder if anything I say matters to anyone. If I just disappeared, nobody would even notice. Worse, everyone would notice, but nobody would have ever really known me. I would die the same way I lived – empty and alone.  _

_ Am I teen angst-ing too hard? I think I’m teen angst-ing too hard. Next thing you know some shady transfer student will be offering me a Slurpee if I promise to blow up the school with him, or I’ll start wearing pink on Wednesdays, or a million other kinds of bullshit teen tropes will fall into my lap and I’ll stumble into being the protagonist of a book I’d just as soon close.  _

_ At least I’ve got my diary, where I can be honest and open and not scared of the fuckery that comes with it. Because here nobody knows its me, and here I know people are listening.  _

_ It’s terrifying that I have to change my name and act like the person I try my hardest to hide in order to get people to listen. Like, maybe  _ I’ve _ been the problem all along, right? That’s...the only answer that makes sense.  _

_ I wish everything was different. I wish I’d gotten the chance to start over, to be the person I am instead of the person I was. But at the same time I don’t think it matters, because the person I am may be better than who I was but that doesn’t mean that I am good. Because I’m not.  _

_ I’m a bad person. Either that or I’m a good person doing bad things, and that’s almost worse. I want to be better, but I don’t think I can be. There’s something rotten in my core, something that makes me different from the people around me, and not in a good way. I don’t want to hurt them, but I don’t know how to not hurt them.  _

_ Maybe  _ **_Gxqwhdf_ ** _ and I aren’t as different as I thought.  _

_ I really should go now. If I don’t finish in the next couple minutes, I’ll be caught. I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone knowing that the person I am is even worse than the person they thought I was.  _

_ I just want to be able to yell and be heard, even if it’s under a mask of anonymity. I want to escape the person I am now. Is that wrong?  _

_ Loving you forever and always –  _

**_Zzvzym_ **

***

There was the blaring noise of a car horn. It shook Evan to his core as he felt his heart thunder, and then he blinked away the fear. 

Because it was Jared. Of course it was Jared, who wouldn’t even bother texting him, and instead just honked his car horn like the asshole he is. 

“Are you ready for our first day of sleuthing, Detective Evan?” Jared passed evan a cup of decaf tea – that was surprisingly thoughtful, all things considered. 

“Something like that,” Evan sunk behind his tea, the steam and the smell helping center him as his panic about school took hold. “I still don’t know if we should do this. Did you read this morning’s entry? This person doesn’t sound like they  _ want _ to be found.” 

“Everyone wants to be found,” Jared was quiet, and suddenly Evan could feel his cast gain twenty pounds of emotional weight it didn’t have before. “Some people just need it figuratively, and some need it literally.” 

The car slipped into silence after that. 

***

“I can’t believe you finished the fucking milk,” Zoe hissed as she slid into the driver’s seat. “I wanted cereal today, dammit! I told you I wanted cereal last night because I saved some of that extra Halloween cereal from last year all so I could have some of my favorite on the first day of school.” 

“And I told you that  _ I _ wouldn’t be letting that happen because eating year old cereal is detrimental to your health.” Connor swiped Zoe’s phone out of her pocket, switching the playlist to some classical piece – Zoe recognized it as the second shade’s variation from La Bayadere. 

Of course he was listening to some classical dance piece. Because he couldn’t listen to normal music like everybody else. 

She stayed quiet. It wasn’t worth it. Not today. 

She got out of the car, her smile breaking into a grin as she noticed a couple of people she knew. “Abby! And Della, oh my  _ gosh, _ how  _ are  _ you?” 

Connor rolled his eyes, gravitating toward his own group of people – Evan and Jared. He didn’t like either of them. He didn’t  _ dislike  _ either of them. That was more than he could say for most of the school. 

New year, new start, right? Maybe it was worth a shot. 

***

“Alana! I need help,” Gali called from across the room. “I can’t figure out –”

“Just a minute!” Alana huffed, trying her hardest to not combust on the spot. “I gotta help Pat, first!” 

“Hurry! We’re going to be  _ late  _ at this point!” Gali hissed. 

“I’m doing my best! It’s not my fault you waited until  _ now  _ to get your sumerwork preread,” Alana was really struggling not to throttle this boy. 

“It’s not my fault I wasn’t aware of the summer work until last night!” 

“Yes, it is!” Pat whirled in their chair. “Now shut up and leave Alana alone! She doesn’t owe you anything!” 

Gali grumbled something under his breath but turned to go. Alana finished Pat’s paper, and Pat quickly thanked her before leaving. 

And then Alana was left alone in the room, her heart as heavy as her eyes. 

The instant her work was done, the instant she was unnecessary...they left. 

Fucking  _ figures.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> projection! projection! projection!


	3. phobia

_ My dearest diary, _

_ Two entries in one day? Alert the presses, this is a massive deal!  _

_ Actually, don’t. Because it’s totally not worth it. I just need to rant about something really, really bad.  _

_ That thing being my very best friend in the whole world. Who I hate just a lil’ bit, but I also love. Because that’s a slew of big, complicated feelings.  _

_ We had a conversation today about loneliness. And I wanted to throw my own insight on the issue into the ring, just for the hell of it?  _

_ And more specifically I wanted to talk a bit about, like, how everyone is lonely. Literally everyone I’ve ever met is lonely in some capacity. And I don’t understand.  _

_ Because, like, great. You’re lonely, I’m lonely, we’re all lonely. So why can’t we all be lonely together?  _

_ Take, for instance, this kid in my class.  _ **_Spqcrc._ ** _ They’re nice, and smart, but nobody talks to them. And I’ve tried to reach out before, but they don’t even notice.  _

_ But I don’t understand. Because they’re just as lonely as I am, right? So why can’t we try to combat that loneliness together?  _

_ But I think we’re scared. Scared that we won’t be able to fill the hole in our chest with other people, so we’d rather keep it open instead of trying to fit something that doesn’t. Which is...sad. Because yeah, people won’t fill the hole, but they can help a little bit. Because knowing you’ve got people to fall back on always helps, y’know?  _

_ I dunno. I don’t get it. But it sucks a ton.  _

_ At least I’ve got one friend,  _ **_Qhcqnffd._ ** _ They’re like...the one place I fit. They’re not my best friend, but they’re...there. Always. Even if  _ **_Fnafzrmk_ ** _ is being a dick. And sometimes I wish I could be the same thing for other people. But I can’t. I don’t know if I’m good enough.  _

_ Loving you forever and always – _

**_Zzvzym_ **

***

“You honestly mean to tell me that you think the  _ prequels  _ are better than the new trilogy? You sicken me,” Connor sniffed. 

“Think of the  _ memes,  _ Murphy! The prequels are like sand –  they’re coarse and rough and irritating and get everywhere. That’s what made them  _ great.”  _ Jared scoffed. “You agree with me, right, Ev?” 

“No, he thinks the new trilogy is better, like me,” Connor argued. “Right, Evan?” 

“I – well, y’see – uh –”

It was lunch, and somehow Jared had talked Evan into eating in the cafeteria. Moreover, somehow  _ Connor Murphy  _ had ended up sitting with them. 

Today was weird. 

Even weirder was when Zoe took the seat beside Evan, directly across from Connor. “Ladies, ladies, you’re  _ both  _ wrong. Clearly the best but of the series is the original trilogy. You honestly mean to tell me that  _ A New Hope _ is topped by anything else in the series? I think not!” 

“Yeah!” Evan agreed, and it felt like he was exhaling for the first time since the lunch period had started. “Like, great, you can complain about sand and you can complain about flat characterization,” he nodded toward Jared and Connor respectively, “but the original trilogy has sand  _ and  _ multidimensional characters! So – so we’ve got you both beat!” 

“Yeah, he gets it!” Zoe gave Evan a high five, taking a defiant bite of one of her fries immediately after. “Although I personally think that  _ Firefly _ has  _ Star Wars _ beat any day.” 

“Space cowboys! Now  _ that’s _ a notion I can get behind,” Jared snatched a fry from Zoe’s plate. 

“Look at you, being a big damn hero,” Connor rolled his eyes, grabbing the fry out of Jared’s hand and eating it. His tone was joking even if his expression was bitter. 

“I’ve...never seen it?” Evan was quiet. 

“This needs to be rectified  _ immediately,”  _ Jared narrowed his eyes. “Tonight, Ev’s place, Firefly. Murphys, you in?” 

“Why not?” Zoe shrugged, slapping Connor’s hand away from her fries defensively. “As long as Evan’s cool with it. You shouldn’t be inviting yourself over without his permission.” 

“I’m – I’m cool with it!” 

“If Mom and Dad will let me out of the damn house, I’ll come.” Connor’s tone turned bitter. 

“If you promise to stay out of trouble at school for the next two weeks, I’ll convince them,” Zoe held her hand out for a handshake. 

“Make it one week.” 

“A week and a half. Seven days total,” Zoe raised a brow. “Deal?” 

“...deal.” 

“So we’re starting Firefly tonight, that means today...we should talk about this diary thing. Ev and I are planning to try to figure out who it is. Do you want to join us?” Jared stole another fry from Zoe while Connor had distracted her, and she proceeded to shoot him her nastiest glare. He almost gave her back the fry.  _ Almost.  _

“We were going to do the same,” Connor shrugged. 

Zoe and Evan exchanged a look, having a conversation without speaking. 

_ Did you get dragged into this without actually being asked too?  _

_ Yeah. You know Jared.  _

_ Ugh. What are we gonna do about these headstrong dumbasses?  _

_ Try to be their common sense, seeing as they’re lacking any?  _

_ But that’s no fun!  _

“So do you have any running theories yet?” 

“We know they’re in the popular clique...although their latest entry seems suspect.” Jared wrinkled his nose. “Like, the tone is different. And what’s with the names in their entries?” 

“The names in their entries are consistent, they’re not random keyboard smashes every time,” Evan was quiet. “Maybe that means they mean something?” 

“I don’t know,” Zoe shrugged, taking a bite of her fry before taking a moment to think. “It also seems tonally like they’re the kind of person that other people want things from, and who feels lonely because other people want things from them but don’t want to be around them.” 

“And we know they say they don’t want to be found,” Connor stole yet another fry, this time from Evan. “So that means they’re someone with enough of a reputation that it could get screwy from this. That or they’re just...scared that people are going to be assholes. Which means they’re a person susceptible to the opinions of others.” 

“Which could be anyone,” Jared argued. “Everyone cares what other people have to say.” 

“I don’t?” Connor shrugged. “Fuck ‘em. Humanity is full of garbage, and that means they think we’re on equal footing. Works out fine for me.” 

The bell rang, and there was the sudden screeching of chairs shifting and shifting of trays. 

“Everyone come tonight with at least one suspect!” Jared demanded before breaking off from the group. 

Evan lost the rest of them in the crowd without being able to find them for a goodbye. 

***

Alana read during lunch. Harry Potter was always safe. The smell of books and familiar words wrapped around her like a blanket. And at least in the library it was quiet. 

And sure she had to skip actually eating. But at least here she was safe from the opinions of others. Besides, she could talk her teachers into letting her eat during class. 

Probably. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s a /crime/ that i have to pull the line, ‘contemplating taking death of the author way too literally’ from the musical i'm writing. it was my favorite meta joke, and alas it just tonally doesn’t work anymore.


	4. need

4-15 14-15-20 10-21-4-7-5 1 3-1-18-4-25 9-20-19 6-1-3-5, 

4-15 14-15-20 13-1-11-5 2-5-20-19 21-14-20-9-12 20-8-5 5-14-4 15-6 20-8-5 18-1-3-5 –

1 3-15-9-14 8-1-19 20-23-15 19-9-4-5-19

1 6-1-3-5 8-1-19 20-23-15 5-25-5-19

13-5-1-14-9-14-7-19 13-21-12-20-9-16-12-25

1-14-4 23-5 6-9-14-4 23-5 1-18-5 14-15-20 1-12-15-14-5. 

***

“So. Theories?” Jared asked, taking up the entire couch. Connor was perched on the arm, Zoe was leaning against the bottom, and Evan was sitting in an archaic armchair next to it. 

“Alana.” Connor and Zoe spoke at the same time, glancing at each other before Connor continued. “She’s ‘popular’ seeing as she’s got spots in student government and tutors most of the student body, but she’s awfully lonely.” 

“Did...did we all guess the same person?” Evan murmured. “Because that was my guess, too.” 

“Same,” Jared sighed. “So how do we go about this? Do we ask her? Or do we get to know her and compile evidence?” 

“We can’t ask, she’ll deny it outright,” Connor rolled his eyes. “Let’s get to know her. Be her friend or whatever. Then we could _maybe_ ask.”

“That feels...manipulative. And not in a good way,” Evan bit his bottom lip. “We should maybe...not do that? I think?” 

“Agreed,” Zoe popped a square of chocolate into her mouth. “I think we just...compile evidence. And we ask her, maybe? And if she says no, ask her if she wants to join us in our quest. She’s incredibly intelligent, she could be really helpful.” 

“Agreed!” 

“So...Firefly?” Zoe cracked a wide grin. “Who’s ready?” 

“Serenity now!” Jared cheered. 

“That’s an incorrect reference but I applaud the effort?” Connor winced. 

Zoe’s phone buzzed, and she checked it with a wince. “Okay Scooby Gang, I’ve got a proposition. We’re solving one big mystery, right? What if along the way we practice our skills with a couple of smaller mysteries?” 

“What brought that on?” Jared raised an eyebrow. 

“One of my friends knows I’ve got a knack for networking online, she wants me to track down this kid she was friends with and had a crush on in, like, fifth grade? And I don’t wanna do it on my own, but I feel like I should do it – and she doesn’t even have his _name._ Just an address that he moved to that she was supposed to send mail to but never got a response from. It would be easier if we did it together?” 

“...alright, why the fuck not?” Jared rolled his eyes with a scoff. “We may as well.” 

“It...it’s not a bad idea,” Evan shrugged. 

“Like hell I’m letting you do that on your own,” Connor huffed. 

“Great!” Zoe grinned. “We can start a subset of the ZEvan Recreational Exorcism Initiative!” 

“Can we change the name to the JEvan Murphy Recreational Exorcism Initiative?” Jared stole a piece of chocolate from Zoe. 

“Absolutely not!” Zoe threw a wrapper at Jared. “Evan and I were the founders, we get our names on it!” 

“...valid,” Connor shrugged. 

***

_Dearest diary,_

_If I hear one more person say that aromantics have it easy I’m going to throw fucking hands. I’m going to come out of the closet for the express purpose of fighting someone to the death._

_Because like, we still? Struggle? Especially someone like me, an alloaro who has to justify the fact that yes, I am attracted to people, just not romantically! And there’s nothing_ wrong _with that, and no it doesn’t mean I’m gonna prey on people or be a creep or have something wrong with me. And damn people for saying otherwise, and damn people who say we don’t exist!_

 **_Wsfmcsv_ ** _doesn’t have it much easier. They’re a closeted nb aroace who is currently about to start fake dating_ **_Sfidpizfh_ ** _so as to get people off their back. To be fair, those two are like halfway to a QPR as is, but it’s...really fucked up that they have to pretend. Especially since_ **_Sfidpizfh_ ** _is actually in love with someone and is forsaking the chance to be with them so that they can help_ **_Wsfmcsv._ **

_Which is...kind of beautiful? That they’re choosing that platonic love out of potential romance. That one of them isn’t considered more important, or that they recognize that the long lasting impacts of platonic love are better than the potentially temporary relationship that could be for a couple of high schoolers._

_The whole thing...fucking sucks. We met tonight to watch some dumb SciFi show, and I was reminded suddenly, sharply, how much I wanted to tell everyone everything. Because these are the only people who get it, and they have to hide too._

_It hurts sometimes. Really bad. And I’m lucky – I know that_ **_Wsfmcsv_ ** _is aroace and therefore that I’m not gonna be left alone when everyone else pairs off and they’re not supposed to have time for platonic friends anymore. Because amatonormativity can suck my ass._

_It hurts to be aromantic sometimes. It hurts to feel a little broken because people think you’re weird or different. It hurts to feel like you’re gonna end up alone because your friends will all leave when they fall in love. It hurts when you’re not queer enough to be LGBTQ+ but not straight enough to be...well, straight._

_It hurts that I have to actually remind people that nobody is entitled to my love, and I am not obligated to give it to anyone. It’s the same way my panromantic asexual pal online has to deal with people getting upset that they have no fucks to give._

_I just...god, people fucking suck. And I feel like I have to say this because if I don’t, who else will?_

_Nobody has spoken for me or the people like me. I had a seven year long crisis about my sexuality and even now I can’t tell people about it. And I looked, and looked, and people continued to not speak for me or the people like me in any way that mattered. Not in a way that people would find without looking._

_So I made a choice. I learned how to write, and I decided that if nobody would speak for me, if nobody would speak for my people, I’d do it myself. It hurts. It’s hard. I’m so scared I’m doing this wrong, that I’m gonna misrepresent us and do more harm than good._

_So I’m doing my best. I’m writing my experience. And my experience is probably the most painful thing I’ve ever dealt with._

_But I’ll take it, I’ll take the hand I’ve been dealt and I’ll tell the story I’m meant to tell. Because I need to. Because there’s something in me, something driving me that I can’t explain or control. I just know that it feels like...like you know that super fast music in the last lap of a race in Mario Kart? Where it gets intense and you feel like you gotta do super well because you’re running out of time?_

_That’s what it feels like, I guess. Because I gotta do this, I gotta get to the finish, but I’m running out of time. Is that dumb? Is that weird?_

_It probably is. ‘Cuz I am. Just a little, I mean. Dumb. And weird. Most people think so, anyway. Which sucks._

_Loving you forever and always –_

**_Zzvzym_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note!! the updated tags!!! note them!!!


	5. magi

_ Dearest diary – _

_ Have you ever wanted to be someone’s friend so badly that the anxiety from being in their proximity or talking to them online makes you, like, the worst version of yourself?  _

_ Because I am totally vibing with that. I wanna be like, best friends with  _ **_Qhcqnffd_ ** _ so hard?? Like I so badly want to be able to talk to them and be their friend, to have dumb conversations at weird hours and to be able to talk to them without anxiety. Is that, like, a normal thing? To want to be close enough to someone to not be anxious around them that it loops right back around to making you anxious?  _

**_Fnafzrmk_ ** _ says I’m being dumb. They’re probably right. It’s really dumb that I get this anxious about talking to people, which probably makes me come off as even more of a weirdo when I’m trying to be friends with people like  _ **_Qhcqnffd,_ ** _ who probably hates people like me. Which, to be fair, same.  _

_ Maybe this thing I’m trying to say can do what it’s supposed to, maybe it’s gonna change things. Change whatever it is that’s wrong with me. Or make me worth all the fuckups.  _

_ But maybe it won’t. Maybe all those nights lying awake trying to dream of a future but coming up blank are right.  _

_ I’m scared of the maybe. I’m scared of the not knowing. I wish I just knew. I wish I didn’t have to wait for whatever was coming.  _

_ I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. I don’t know what words can describe it. I think I may be sad. Or mad. Or both, I guess? It’s...complicated.  _

_ Oh, and something else that I saw today? I was online, doing my thing, and I saw this post about how aroace people aren’t systematically oppressed because we don’t have laws, sanctions, or practices against our community. Which, like, isn’t true? Well it sorta is, but it also totally isn’t. I’m not even aroace, I’m aroallo, and I know that much.  _

_ They talked about how aromanticism and asexuality is a ‘tool’ that can be used to discuss ‘sexual or romantic preference’ and that they are seldom permanent ways to discuss one’s sexuality or romantic orientation. Which is, in itself, innately false.  _

_ Whoever wrote this...essay was incredibly eloquent. And they made good points, but each of those points stemmed from a place of misunderstanding of what is and is not harmful to the aroace community, as well as a fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to be aroace. I myself cannot begin to understand the experience, as I am not asexual, and it would likely be incredibly difficult to be alienated from both aspects of the experience that is supposedly linked to being ‘human’. However, I am aromantic, and I can tell the world this – _

_ – there is innate harm being done in adding unnecessary romance to everything. I love romance, I love shipping, but pairing off any and all characters is innately damning to our experience, and is accidentally creating a divide. I love shipping, and romance, but I do not experience it, and it makes me feel incredibly lonely at times. And I know in this – I assume in this – I am not alone.  _

_ They discussed the fact that asexuality is harmful to sex positivity, and how asexuality is meant to be kept quiet, to be kept between the people in a relationship, how it’s a sub-identity. And that is simply false. My panromantic asexual friend was so hurt upon reading those words that it made me sick to my stomach. The reason that asexuality is important is because it is an experience shared between members of the population who feel alienated, who feel as if they are different for feeling or not feeling things that are claimed to be ‘universal’. This group of people whom have felt like an ‘other’ for years, who have felt like they have had to force themselves into compromising situations because they don’t have the right to say no, finally have a place where they can speak to others who share in that identity, who finally have a place to be themselves. They have a right to speak to that experience, and how  _ dare  _ you try to silence them, and the experiences they have been through? You cannot fathom – neither can I, for that matter – the pain that some of these people have been through. Several asexuals I have spoken to have put themselves in a compromising situation that they did not want to participate in, and followed through because they felt they ‘had to’. This person talked about how asexuality was infantilizing groups of people, how it was denying people of their sexuality. This is...blatant untruth. There are sex positive asexuals who are open to having sexual experiences and asexuals who aren’t down to have sexual experiences but are cool with other people goin’ for it, and really there’s nothing in the prerequisites for being asexual that state that sex is a full stop no. It’s a question of attraction, and it’s a spectrum, and anyone who says otherwise has a blatant misunderstanding of who the community is.  _

_ They then talked about aromanticism, and oh boy. Oh  _ **_boy_ ** _ could I go off. They talked about how aromantics were regularly bi or gay but had enough internalized homophobia that they refused to accept themselves. I can tell you that this is untrue – because I labeled myself as bi for years because I thought that my lack of attraction romantically to both genders put me in that group. They talked about how typically aromantics are too picky or haven’t found ‘The One’ yet. I’ve dated boys, girls, and people who fall between and people who exist beyond the binary, and I’ve never once really...felt that romantic experience that everyone talks about, with the butterflies and the deep love. I loved them, I think. But I loved them the way you love your closest friends. They discussed how aromanticism was creating fear of abuse and how we were taking attention away from the ‘causes’ of our aromanticism – misogyny, racism, ableism, and so on. That’s just...wrong. That’s so wrong I can’t even begin to discuss it? Because yeah, I got issues. But my issues don’t cause my aromanticism, and my aromanticism didn’t cause my issues. They’re just...two innate parts of who I am. Same way that someone can love math and have blue eyes – they’re both intrinsic to the person, but they’re so unrelated that trying to draw a parallel between the two seems like some kind of pseudoscientific rambling.  _

_ I am aromantic. I don’t share in that experience, as much as I like to read about it. I have always been aromantic, no matter if I had the words or not. I think I will probably always be aromantic. But I have been told time and time again that my identity is not real. I need to find ‘the one’ or that our narratives don’t matter because people like squishy love stories better than stories about friendship.  _

_ I love romance. I love love, in all its forms. Because love is important, and I love watching the people I love find each other and find love. But there are people like me, there always have been, and there always will be. And I’m tired of people who don’t know what they’re talking about speaking over us. I am who I am, and I will not be silenced anymore. I will not stand for this. Not now, and not ever again.  _

_ Loving you forever and always – _

**_Zzvzym_ **

***

“...Alana? Are you okay?” Abby shifted nervously from foot to foot. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Alana looked up from her laptop, swapping windows with incredible speed. “So you need me to edit a paper for you?”

“Nope, I was just worried? About you? You seemed really off at our student council meeting and I just...it’s been a hard couple months for you, with your grandma and all, and I wanted to make sure you were alright. If you ever need to talk – or want to talk – I’m here for you?” Abby flashed a smile that Alana felt tugging at something deep in her stomach. 

It was probably fake. People like Abby were fake more often than not – Alana knew that much – but it was nice that she felt strongly enough that she was okay with being fake toward Alana. 

Or maybe Alana’s performance was being hindered and it was getting on Abby’s nerves. That was...as likely as anything. 

“I’m fine! Thank you for checking in, I promise all is well. I’ll see you tomorrow for Homecoming Committee?” 

“Of course! As long as you say you’re alright, I’m sure all is fine. But if you need to take a day off at any time, let me know! Have a good day,” Abby’s smile turned dazzling as she pulled out her phone, type-typing away at something Alana couldn’t see. “Oh, dammit Elliot...” she walked away, muttering darkly. 

Alana felt her phone buzz in her pocket, which was...odd. It was probably her father shooting her a message, all things considered. 

It wasn’t. 

**SaDOS:** hi alana! it’s evan!! i was wondering if you wanted to work together on our ap bio assignment?

**SaDOS:** it’s totally cool if you don’t! 

**SaDOS:** but it may be nice to work in a group where we both are doing the work? potentially? 

**holy_beck_batman:** That sounds wonderful! When would you like to discuss? 

**SaDOS:** lunch tomorrow? unless you have other plans! but if you don’t you could come sit me and we could talk through it a bit? 

**holy_beck_batman:** Great! Find me in front of the library before lunch! 

**SaDOS:** awesome! can’t wait :)! 

Something warm welled up in Alana’s chest. 

Maybe she would actually make a friend this year. That would be...nice. 

Really nice. 

***

“They cut it off after  _ one season?”  _ Evan was livid. “What the fuck! That was so good, what the fuck?” 

“I take it you finished after we left last night?” Zoe asked with a snort. 

“Of course I did! It was – it was so good! Why would they just  _ leave _ it like that? And then the movie – what the  _ fuck  _ was up with that characterization?” 

“How did you watch all of that in  _ one night?”  _ Jared was aghast. 

“2.5x speed and sheer force of will,” Evan blinked. “Also tea. Lots and lots of tea. Like  _ five pots of tea.”  _

“Oookay, so that’s why you’re acting so weird,” Jared looked positively  _ worried  _ about Evan. Hell must’ve frozen over or something. 

“I also think I sent Alana a text this morning inviting her to lunch for an AP Bio project? I don’t know, my brain is all – all fuzzy, but I think I was astral projecting so hard that I started, like, clipping through walls and accidentally deleted my anxiety for a hot second. So that’s – well, I’m about to die over that, actually – so fun!” 

“She’s particularly intense today, too.” Connor huffed. “She went  _ off  _ in English about the erasure of marginalized groups through history, and how we need to be taught more about historical queer authors and narratives – something about The Illiad and whatever?” 

“She’s right, but damn nobody would be willing to go ahead and say it,” Zoe murmured. “Especially in this town.” 

“Right? Like, she’s  _ right, _ it’s about time that this backwater town catch up with the times, but we still have kids wearing Confederate flags to school, holy  _ shit.”  _ Jared hissed as he ducked past one of the boys likely being referenced – he was wearing annoying camo pants, a ‘Suns out Guns Out’ shirt, and boots that he’d clearly worn while out hunting. 

“How have _ I  _ been labeled the problem?” Connor huffed. 

“Bullshit and – and parent funding,” Evan rolled his eyes. 

“Also weed,” Jared piped up. “That doesn’t help your reputation.” 

They reached a four-way intersection in the hall – each member of the group went their own way, except for Connor and Evan, who continued forward. Connor glared at anyone who got too close to their space. 

It was quiet, sure. But it was...nice. Not the awkward kind of quiet. Evan liked it. Evan liked it a lot, actually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i go off a bit too much in zzvzym’s journal entry?? yeahhh...i had big thoughts after seeing a post today and felt the overpowering need to go off. so. i’m sorry. i just needed to say that somewhere, and dammit writing is only place i can go off rn.


End file.
